


Bringing Work Home

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Asexual Sherlock, Bottom John Watson, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Emotional OT3, First Time, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Top Greg Lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 04:26:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13516569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: John thinks Sherlock’s idea is preposterous; it turns out to be just what he needed





	Bringing Work Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smirkdoctor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smirkdoctor/gifts).



It was Thursday night and John and Sherlock were on the sofa, watching a movie of John’s choosing. Which meant John was watching it and Sherlock was fiddling with his phone. But that was just fine as far as John was concerned. Sherlock had his head on John’s shoulder and John had put an arm around him. It was comfortable. Intimate. Not anything John had thought he’d really have, especially not with another bloke, but here they were.

There were a lot of things in life he had and hadn’t expected, but then there was Sherlock.

John yawned and settled back, his eyes drifting closed.

“You should have sex with Lestrade,” said Sherlock.

John sat bolt upright and looked at him. “What?”

“I’m not at all interested in it. You are enjoying our relationship, but you miss that aspect. Lestrade would be glad to fill it.”

John shook his head. “Sherlock, you and I are, well I don’t know if boyfriend applies or what. But I’m not going to just sleep with someone because you aren’t sleeping with me.”

“Why not? I’m fully aware of what’s going on, you wouldn’t be doing anything behind my back.”

John got up and paced. “It’s just not done, Sherlock.”

Sherlock watched him and opened his mouth to speak again. John grabbed his coat. “Taking a walk,” he muttered, heading down the stairs.

**

“Ridiculous,” John grumbled as he walked the long way around the block. He was fine with the way things were. He could have a wank if he really needed the release, no point in bringing someone else into the mix.

Though he had to admit there would be worse choices then Greg Lestrade. The man was good looking, trustworthy, and currently single. And apparently liked men as well as women. John shook his head. Was he actually considering this?

He’d never cheated on a partner, but this wouldn’t be, would it? Like Sherlock said, he’d be fully aware of what was going on. But how would Greg take all this? Would he find it just as ridiculous?

It started to rain and John hurried back home. He was surprised and suspicious when he heard Greg’s laughter as he climbed the stairs.

Greg was, in fact, sitting on the sofa, grinning at the movie he was watching. Sherlock had tucked himself next to him. As he looked in, John expected to feel a flash of jealousy… but oddly enough, he didn’t. Perhaps it was because he already knew Sherlock and Greg were friends, maybe because he knew that Sherlock wasn’t attracted to him any more than he was attracted to John.

“Evening,” said Greg. “Sherlock said you were watching some films.”

“Ah, yeah.” John hung up his coat. Greg didn’t usually just hang out in their flat. Sometimes he and Greg might go share a pint or two, but that was usually the extent of it. 

Sherlock rolled to his feet and wandered towards his microscope in the kitchen, giving John plenty of room to sit down next to Greg.

“Did Sherlock, ah, talk to you?” asked John, looking at the telly instead of Greg.

“You mean about you and I and him?” asked Greg. “I’m game if you are.”

John blinked and turned his head. “Really?”

“Why not? You’re an attractive man, John. Sherlock’s fine with it.”

“But I don’t want to just… use you, Greg.”

“You aren’t.” Greg cupped his cheek and pulled him into a soft kiss. John closed his eyes and sighed into it. Sherlock would accept a kiss sometimes, but nothing much beyond that.

“Alright?” asked Greg as he pulled back, studying John’s face.

“Yeah.” John smiled at him.

“Good. Now, let's finish watching this movie. Start with that, yeah?”

John nodded and Greg tucked him up against his side. If it were anyone else, John would feel emasculated, but somehow it was okay if it was Greg. Sherlock wandered back in after a little while and curled up on Greg’s other side, reaching across and taking John’s hand. It felt right, Greg with his arms around them both, shaking with his laughter.

The movie finally finished and John found himself loath to move. Greg leaned back, seemingly content as well. They lapsed into comfortable silence and John felt himself drifting off, Greg warm beside him, in contrast to Sherlock’s often cool skin. Maybe this was something he could get used to.

**

John woke sometime in the small hours, still on the sofa, laying on Greg’s chest, the older man’s arms wrapped him. Sherlock was back in the kitchen, fiddling with one of his experiments. Reluctantly, John got up from Greg’s embrace, yawning and stretching and making his way over to Sherlock.

“You should sleep too.”

Sherlock shrugged. John glanced back at Greg. “Is that what you expected to happen?”

“Lestrade falling asleep on the sofa? It was a possibility.”

John nudged him. “Go on to bed. You want him to join us?”

“If he wishes.”

“It would be more comfortable than the sofa, that’s for sure.”

Sherlock grumbled slightly but began putting things away. John walked back into the living room and shook Greg’s arm. “Hey.”

Greg woke up quickly, eyes out of focus for a moment before he realized where he was and stretched. “Is it morning?”

“Technically. Come on, you don’t have to sleep on the sofa. I know it’s not doing your back any favors.”

Greg nodded and sat up, accepting John’s hand to get to his feet. “Where are we going?”

“Sherlock’s got the biggest bed. Though knowing him he’s already occupying three-quarters of it.”

“Sounds like Sherlock,” chuckled Greg, following John down the hall.

John looked away as Greg stripped down to his boxers without ceremony, budging Sherlock over and climbing in. Sherlock reached out for John and pulled him over to his side of the bed. John smiled to know that Sherlock wanted to be surrounded by the pair of them. Sherlock curled up around Greg but reached back for John’s hand as John spooned around him.

Sherlock and Greg were soon out, but John lay awake, letting go of Sherlock’s hand to run fingers through his hair. This still felt entirely unorthodox, but since when did Sherlock do anything ordinary? Or by halves? John nuzzled against Sherlock and closed his eyes, finally finding his own sleep.

**

John woke early in the morning to find Sherlock sprawled out again and snoring softly, hair all a mess on the pillow and blankets kicked down to his waist. There was the sound of humming from the kitchen and John smiled, glad that Greg was still here. He pecked Sherlock’s forehead and got to his feet, stopping at the loo and padding into the kitchen.

Greg was at the stove, still in boxers, but with an apron on for safety’s sake. John vaguely recognized what he was humming, but couldn’t quite place it. He found he did rather like the view he was getting when Greg leaned over the stove. 

“Mornin’,” said Greg, sipping a cup of coffee that he must have found in the back of one of the cupboards. John didn’t even want to know how old it was, but apparently it was drinkable.

“Good morning,” said John politely. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Greg turned his attention back to his skillet. “His highness still in bed?”

John chuckled. “He’ll magically appear the minute breakfast is done.”

“Sounds about right.” Greg reached over and tugged John closer, kissing him.

John’s eyes closed. He could get used to this, he had to admit.

“Alright?” asked Greg pulling away and watching his face.

“Yeah,” said John, smiling at him.

Yawning, Sherlock wandered into the kitchen, wrapped up in his sheet. “You’re going to burn the eggs,” he muttered.

Greg and John shared a look before Greg went back to his skillet and John finished with the tea.

The three of them sat down together at the table and Greg and John took turns nudging Sherlock to eat. He rolled his eyes, but did eat more than usual, for which John was glad.

Greg went to get dressed as they finished eating, telling Sherlock there might be a case later if he could manage to put on some trousers, and stealing one more kiss from John before heading out the door.

“See?” said Sherlock, flouncing off towards the shower and leaving John with the dishes.

**

Greg started coming around more often. John grew used to him coming up the stairs and spending time with them. Sometimes Greg brought dinner when he knew they’d been out on a case all day. Nothing changed at crime scenes, to John’s relief; Greg was as professional as ever.

But Greg in Baker Street was domestic. And it was always Baker Street, they never went over to Greg’s flat. Probably because Sherlock was more comfortable here, though John never asked. 

John became more confident initiating kisses with Greg, didn’t mind leaning on him. Greg did share their bed sometimes, and those quiet moments in the kitchen in the morning deepened their friendship.

Sherlock watched them together; John kept an eye out for signs of jealousy, but there were none. Sherlock would lay his head in Greg’s lap sometimes, but there was never any more physical contact between Greg and Sherlock than there was between he and Sherlock. It felt comfortable in a way John couldn’t have expected. Of course Sherlock had been right about all this.

**

A bit more than a month later, John could tell by the trudge of Greg’s feet on the stairs that he’d had a bad day. Sherlock was busy with something in the kitchen, so John grabbed his jacket and Greg’s elbow announcing that they were going out for a pint.

Greg didn’t argue as John turned him around. John let go of his arm as they reached the street and they walked side by side in silence to the pub.

They got pints and a quiet corner. John listened as Greg talked about his day, his mood growing lighter by the minute. It felt different than the other times they’d gone for a drink, something in Greg’s eyes more than what he normally saw from a friend. 

Finally, Greg finished his drink and leaned forward, putting a hand on John’s knee. “Ya wanna go back to mine?” He asked.

“Let me text Sherlock,” said John, surprised to find that he really did want to go to Greg’s.

John sent a message and a moment later both their phones buzzed, almost in sync. “He says good, it’ll give him a chance to do an experiment and he’ll see me tomorrow.”

Greg smiled and leaned closer. “And he wants me to take care of you.”

John leaned against him a moment, shoulder to shoulder, then got up, paying for the pints.

“I actually don’t live far,” said Greg as he led the way out to the street.

“I didn’t think you did,” said John, tucking his hands in his pocket, wind whipping around his collar. Some part of him couldn’t believe he was going home with a bloke like this. But it wasn’t just a bloke, it was Greg.

They went around another corner and walked another block, side by side, not speaking. The buzz John had cultivated was starting to fade by the time they got to a block of flats. Greg led him up and unlocked the door. 

“Sorry, it’s a bit messy. Wasn’t planning on company,” said Greg, pushing open the door.

The flat was small, papers and magazines scattered on the coffee table, a shirt thrown over the back of the sofa and a pair of trousers on the floor. There was a table to one side containing a book and a half-empty glass.

Greg moved to try and pick up a bit. “Afraid I’ve got used to living on my own.”

John chuckled and caught his arm. “I live with _Sherlock_ , remember? At least I’m reasonably certain you don’t have an entire head in your fridge.”

Greg smiled back and put the things aside. “I may bring my work home sometimes, but not like that.” He leaned in and kissed John.

John returned the kiss, gently stepping him back until Greg sat on his sofa. Before he could second-guess himself, John climbed into his lap and deepened the kiss, gently tugging Greg’s hair.

Greg groaned softly, catching his fingers in John’s belt loops and pulling him down onto what felt like a fairly impressive erection.

“You do that, John,” Greg said softly, breaking the kiss to nibble at John’s throat. “I want you.”

John took Greg’s hand and put it on the bulge in his own trousers. “I want you, too,” he admitted.

“Good. Then we’re in agreement.” Greg moved with surprising quickness, dumping John onto his back on the sofa and moving over him with a predatory grin.

John cupped the back of Greg’s neck and pulled him down for another kiss. Greg’s hands were unbuttoning his shirt, his tongue licking into John’s mouth. John hadn’t expected Greg to be quite so dominating, but he liked it. He knew he was safe, he knew Greg would take care of him.

Greg pulled him up just long enough to push his shirt and jacket off his shoulders, then took the hem of John’s undershirt and tugged it over his head. John had a moment of worry about the scar on his shoulder, but Greg simply looked down at him with heat and hunger, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Maybe we should move to the bedroom?” suggested John, reaching up to unbutton Greg’s shirt in turn.

“That would require moving,” said Greg, leaning in to kiss him again, grinding down against him.

John gasped. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised as Greg peeled off his own top, leaving him bare-chested. He was in trim shape, despite his age, and John reached up to run his hands up Greg’s chest.

Grinning, Greg grabbed his wrists and tugged him to his feet, pushing him against the hallway wall and kissing him again as he went for John’s belt. John nipped his lower lip and Greg pulled them back, somehow getting both John’s and his own trousers off before they tumbled into bed.

Greg kissed John again, squeezing his cock through his pants, making him groan. “Tell me I can suck your cock,” he growled.

“God, yeah. Do it Greg, suck my cock.” John panted with need, rolling his hips against Greg’s grip.

Greg finished baring him, sliding down the bed. “Not gonna lie, I like a big cock, and John, you don’t disappoint.”

John grinned in return and grasped Greg’s hair. “Thanks. Now come on, you wanted to taste it.”

Greg moved up a bit and started slow, pinning John’s hips to the bed, making him moan and arch with pleasure, as he tugged at Greg’s hair. 

“Oh fuck, Greg!” John cried out as Greg deepthroated him, then pulled off altogether, kissing his hip.

John looked down at him, knowing his eyes were blown dark as Greg’s. “Fuck me,” he said.

Greg hesitated. “You sure?”

John nodded. “Yeah. I wanna feel you.”

Nodding, Greg got up to fetch condoms and lube, returning the bed and going back to sucking John’s cock as he coated his fingers and started teasing him.

John had done this sort of thing a time or two with a willing girlfriend when he was younger, but he’d never been with a man, not like this. He wanted it, though. He was almost surprised at himself, but it was true. He wanted Greg, wanted to know what it would feel like to be stretched open by him. To feel Greg move inside of him.

Greg pushed a finger in, taking his time, the heat of moments before cooling as he prepped John. And John knew he would do his best not to hurt him.

“Feels good,” he murmured, rolling his hips.

“It’ll feel better,” said Greg, using more lube and adding another finger, sliding up next to John to kiss him slowly.

John let himself relax, sipping Greg’s kisses, tangling his fingers in Greg’s hair. Greg took his time, making sure he was fully open, teasingly stroking his prostate once and sending spikes of pleasure down John’s spine. When Greg wasn’t kissing him, John was fully cognizant of being the focus of that tender gaze, heart warming at the affection he could see there.

“I think you’re ready,” murmured Greg, finally, kissing John’s throat and reaching for a condom. 

John nodded. “Er, what’s the best way...?”

“I can make it work whatever position you want to try,” Greg’s grin was mischievous as he rolled the condom on and added yet more lube. John’s eye was drawn to his thick cock and he felt just a slight touch of fear that maybe it wouldn’t work after all.

“I’ve got you,” murmured Greg, moving up and cupping his cheek to focus John’s gaze. He slid his thumb into John’s mouth and John instinctually sucked on it, feeling the roughness of his skin.

“Good,” murmured, Greg. He pushed up John’s legs and settled between them. “Let’s start off here so you can see me, okay?”

John nodded. 

Greg took his thumb back. “Don’t forget to breathe.” He leaned in and kissed John yet again, guiding himself into him.

John groaned at the stretch. Greg moved slowly, giving him time to adjust. John held Greg’s shoulders and tucked his head into the crook of his neck, panting.

“You’re doing good for me,” murmured Greg, running a soothing hand through John’s hair. “Breathe, love.”

John took a deep breath and let it out. Greg groaned as he slid the last little bit, filling John. “God, yeah.”

Taking another breath and trying to relax, John turned his head and kissed Greg. Greg licked into his mouth as he started to move.

John fell into the rhythm of it, holding Greg’s arms and moaning into his mouth. This was okay. This was… good, actually. The drag of Greg’s cock sent more pleasure through John’s body as he moved with him.

To his surprise, Greg pulled out a few minutes later. “I’m close,” he murmured, kissing John’s knee. “Here, roll over,” he said, guiding John onto his hands and knees.

This was a little different, not being able to see Greg. But he could smell him on the pillows, and as he slid back into John, he covered the smaller man, kissing and nibbling at the back of his neck and shoulders, taking John in hand.

John gasped as his cock slid through Greg’s palm. The pace was steady, clearly Greg making sure he wasn’t hurting him. Greg was strong and gentle, making small adjustments as he went. 

Greg groaned, and John felt warmth as he came. Stilling, Greg breathed harshly into John’s shoulder. He took a breath and knelt back, keeping John on his cock as he settled him on his lap.

Holding John tight, Greg stroked him off. John cried out again and reached back for Greg’s hair, driven higher and higher not only by his hand, but also by a steady stream of curses and praise murmured in his ear. He came in moments, eyes screwed tightly shut as Greg worked him through.

Finally, Greg carefully pushed John forward just enough to pull out. He lay John on his side and kissed his cheek, getting up and going into the loo.

John lay on his arm, breath starting to slow. They’d actually done it. He’d actually had sex with another man. Before he could really stop to figure out how he felt about that, Greg returned with a warm cloth to wipe him up with just as much care and gentleness as he’d done everything else.

“Well, we can’t sleep in that spot,” chuckled Greg, wiping up John’s mess as best he could. “Luckily there’s a whole rest of the bed here.” He spooned behind John, nuzzling his damp hair and holding him comfortably.

John let Greg’s steady breathing lull him into a comfortable sleep.

**

John woke slowly. He had moved onto his back sometime in the night, Greg tucked against his side with his head on John’s shoulder. John’s arm was starting to go numb, which was part of why he’d woken up. That and a rather urgent request from his bladder, reminding him that he’d had a few pints the night before.

Carefully, he extricated himself from Greg and made his way to the loo, slightly unsteady on his feet. He wasn’t quite as sore as he’d expected, but that was probably thanks to Greg’s preparations.

Finishing his business, he washed his hands and looked at himself in the mirror. Everything looked the same, as any other morning. Greg’s soft snores carried in from the bedroom and John smiled. He felt good, he decided. Really good. He stretched and stepped into the shower, quickly figuring it out and getting the water good and hot.

John wasn’t entirely surprised when Greg stepped in to join him just as he was finishing up. Greg rest his head on John’s shoulder. “Morning,” he muttered, clearly not entirely awake.

Chuckling, John stepped out of the spray. “Good morning. I suppose I’ll see about some breakfast.”

There was an indistinct reply. John stole one of Greg’s t-shirts and pulled his jeans back on, making his way to the kitchen. By the time Greg appeared, he had a proper breakfast on the table and was able to hand… his lover? A cup of coffee.

“Ta,” said Greg accepting it and sitting down.

They ate in silence, but at least Greg was clearly more awake as they finished. “How are you feeling?” he asked John.

“Good,” he said honestly, unable to keep from smiling.

“Me too,” Greg gave an answering smile.

They headed back to Baker Street once they finished, both of them still grinning. Sherlock rolled his eyes at them, but then also curled up on them on the sofa, head in John’s lap. John pet his curls. “Not going anywhere,” he promised.

“Me either,” said Greg, patting the pert bum that was in his lap.

Sherlock muttered something indistinct and settled in.

Greg picked up the telly remote and found them something to watch.

John relaxed. Greg put an arm around him. Having Sherlock around was sometimes like having an overlarge cat; he liked pets and cuddles, but would protest loudly that he wanted no such thing. 

And this was comfortable. Nothing felt strange or out of the ordinary. Life would continue as it had, though perhaps there would be a bit more time in Greg’s bed. And that would be nice. John shivered at the memory, making Sherlock turn his head and look up at him.

John lifted him up to kiss him gently, then settled him back down. Sherlock sighed and relaxed. John did too, looking forward to what lay ahead for the three of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to beltainefaire for the beta and those last few word wars to get it done!


End file.
